


Dad for the Day

by thepeskyunicorn



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M, and also graves seducing credence, graves as a (not so) generic bbq dad, just another messy fic, of course, with wayy too many characters to balance a proper story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 06:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11307801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeskyunicorn/pseuds/thepeskyunicorn
Summary: From this post: https://drunp.tumblr.com/post/161376664752/this-is-peak-craigslistand snarry_splitpea's suggestion comes this messWherein The Gang hires Percival Graves as their Dad for the Day





	Dad for the Day

“ _That’s_ the guy we got?” Tina whispers to Queenie, craning her neck to catch a good look at the man that climbed out of his car. “How the hell does he fulfill the generic BBQ dad of our fantasies?!”

“Oh hush there, spoilsport,” Queenie whispers back, elbowing Tina in the ribs. “He’s the most decent match we could find.”

“He said he’s got twelve years of experience as a father,” Newt pipes up, hauling a cooler full of beers onto the table. “And I made him send a video of him simultaneously drinking beer while flipping a burger to verify what he said.”

Tina looks at Newt like she’s seriously reconsidering his sanity.

Newt shrugs. “He checks out.”

“He’s easy on the eyes too,” Jacob joins in with his opinion and a pound of meat. “I may be quite straight but I think we can all agree that he’s quite handsome.”

The BBQ dad hauls his grill out from the trunk. Queenie, Tina, Newt, and Jacob all tilt their heads to admire the bulge of muscle and the strained fabric over his ass as he hefts in under his arm.

“And Credence approves of him!” Queenie waves to the man, signalling where their house is. “Don’t you Credence?”

“Hmm?” Credence looks up distractedly from where he was assembling the lawn chairs. “Oh, yes, very much so -”

And stops to stare, thunderstruck.

“Oh,” He clears his throat, looking back down to fuss with the positioning of the chair. His cheeks are starting to blush. “He’s very handsome.”

“See?” Jacob says triumphantly. “Great minds think alike.”

Newt clears his throat, a knowing look in his eyes as he nudges Credence. “His name is Percival Graves, by the way. But I think it’s best if we all call him Dad for today.” He leaves Credence not quite staring at their Dad-of-the-day, going to unlock the gate for Percival.

Percival - his Dad - envelopes him in a firm hug, giving Newt a manly pat on the back. “Good to see you again, champ.” He pulls away, examining Newt’s gangly frame. “You’ve gotten a lot bigger, having you. It’s time we took another trip down to the lake for another fishing trip before you’re all grown up and too busy for your pa, eh?"

Newt’s face splits in a huge grin, gangly body angled awkwardly to welcome him in. “Sure thing, Dad.” He sweeps his hands out to introduce the others. “Here’s the rest of the gang.”

Percival strides in, enveloping Tina in a hug. “Baby! What have you been up to? Last I remember, you were still that tiny one walking into glass doors.”

Tina flushed, slapping his arm, embarrassed. “Dad! That was ages go!” She draws herself higher when everyone laughs at the memory. “If you must know, I’ve been promoted to assistant to the director of Homeland Security.”

"Assistant!” Percival’s eyes widen even as the others sniggers. Tina had came back one day, full to the brim with pride about her promotion and didn’t let the others forget about it for the rest of the week. “You’ve always got a nose like a bloodhound for trouble, Tina baby.” Percival taps his finger on the tip of her nose, leaning in conspiratorially. “Remember to follow your instincts. It hasn’t failed you yet.”

Tina swells up with so much happiness, it looks like she was about to float away.

Newt brings him around, introducing Percival to the rest of the gang, letting Jacob push a cold beer into his hands and Tina set up the grill.

Percival stops at Queenie, looking at her with fond eyes. “Look at you, honey,” he admires the pink of her dress, watches the fabric swish as Queenie moves closer to him. “You’re gonna break some hearts, aren’t you?”

Queenie laughs, a vision to behold. “Oh Daddy, if only you knew!”

“Should I keep a shotgun nearby just in case?” Their dad’s eyes are twinkling, humorous and well meaning. “Although with a mind that sharp, I don’t think you need any help cutting men down, honey.”

Queenie giggles, turning to hide her cheeks partways in her shoulder, coquettish all of a sudden. “Always a charmer, Daddy. At least now I know where I got my charisma from.”

Percival winks, heading towards the set up grill where a fire is already burning merrily away.

It doesn't take long for the group to ease themselves to the presence of their new father figure, aided in part with the continuous, drawling conversations Percival keeps up with everyone. He clicks with them well - even shy Credence, the baby of the group - throwing in casual compliments and sly jokes, all while expertly grilling the food and swigging from a can of beer.

“You’ve got talent, son,” he tells Jacob when he tries one of the burgers. “Ya gotta do something with it. You’ll go far.” Jacob beams, later slipping him a beer infused charlotte cake as an early dessert.

“Dad?” Tina asks suddenly as they were all winding down towards the evening, the bright summer’s heat cooling to something more bearable. Percival turned from where he was listening to Newt’s stories, a questioning look on his face. Tina shifts on her feet, wiping the condensation from her drink. “You’ve asked so many questions about us, what about you?”

“Ah,” Percival lean back, propping his leg up on the edge of the table. “Would ya like to hear about the glory days or just the sad ones?”

“Both,” Queenie says, shifting from where she was leaning against Credence. Credence nods his head eagerly too, not yet courageous enough to voice his opinions yet. “Let’s hear both.”

“It’s not much.” He shrugs, flipping a patty with practiced ease, sliding the stuffed capers onto a plate with a flick of his wrist. “It all started when I was born in the sweat and sawdust of a travelling carnival circus. My mother was an acrobat and her name was -”

“Oh, come off it!” Jacob bursts out. “I’m calling bullshit on that.”

Percival throws back his head in a shaking laugh. “You’re right, I was just pulling your leg.” He winks at Tina, piling the fillings on top of the burger bun. “It’s nothing special, but we’ll save it for another time.”

***

The party officially ended when the skies turned burnt orange, sending lights streaking messily as the sun goes down. Queenie ushers them in for desserts, away from the insects that come out at dusk. Credence slips away as the rest noisily rushes in, hoping to find a little peace to digest his food and his day’s experience.

“Y’know darling, I’ve seen you staring but I haven’t heard anything come out of that pretty mouth yet.”

Credence turns in surprise, squinting in the looming darkness even though he already knows who the voice belongs to.

“Dad!” he squeaks, drawing himself upright, leaning back against the wall of the house. He swallows as the father figure crowds in on him, bracketing him in with strong arms on either side of his body.

“So you do speak.” This close, Credence could see the smile to go with the teasing tone, the heavy intensity of the man’s eyes lightened by the crow’s feet crinkling at the corners. “You can call me Daddy, you know.”

Credence feels weak at his knees, although he is very sure it was from the man’s proximity rather than the amount of alcohol he had consume that day. “Daddy it is.” He swallows again, feeling his breathing pick up. “Thank you, by the way, for today. Your presence was, um, greatly appreciated.”

“Really, darling?” A hand moves to lightly grip his chin, drawing ticklish circles there, brushing through the stubble. “I enjoyed myself too. Y’all are a great bunch, especially,” Credence trembles as he feels the fingers trail lower, down his throat to the bowl of his collarbone. “Especially you.”

“Me?” Credence says incredulously. “But Daddy, I hardly said anything.”

“Firstly, baby,” Percival’s voice is pitched a little lower, a little rougher, and Credence wonders if he had anything to do with that. “You saying ‘Daddy’ will be the death of me. And secondly, don’t you think I didn’t notice you helping around? Doing everything with that quiet way of yours, looking at me all shy and sweet - you were basically hosting the event all by yourself so don’t you dare say otherwise.”

“I um,” Credence’s eyes flit around, body trying to curl in on himself from the flush of the praise. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Good boy.” Percival growls, teeth at Credence’s ear, thumb tracing his neck. His eyes tracks Credence, meeting, sustaining eye contact. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, darling,” he says, and -

And Credence’s mind is blissfully blank as Percival kisses him, flatlining even as he could feel the building emotions bubbling within him.

“Is that ok, sweetheart?”

“Ah,” Credence traces a finger along swollen lips. “I think,” his eyebrows furrows in concentration as he tries to condense his words. “I think it’s more than ok.”

Percival grins, fatherly authority with a darker twist, and leans in to devour him.

***

“So what’s your story? The rest of the gang has got one but I haven’t got to hear yours yet.”

Credence smiles and snuggles deeper into Percival’s chest. They had emerged from their corner with rest lips and stained cheeks and proceeded to try and squeeze into one lawn chair. Queenie sent them a pleased smile and Credence thinks she approves of them more than she can say.

“It’s nothing special,” he says, mimicking Percival’s words from before. “I was adopted by a woman -  a bad woman - and I never really knew who my parents were. It’s funny, I’ve never thought to question who or where I came from…”

It feels good to spill his secrets into the empty night air, curling summer heat carrying his sorrow and past to a better place. He reveals each scar, recounts his escapes, rolls out his hopes and dreams, and Percival listens. He listens with the same intensity as he had listened to the others, fingers drawing delicate circles on Credence’s shoulders.

“You did your best,” he tells Credence, pressing a kiss to his neck. “You are a miracle, a survivor, and I am proud of you.”

Credence smiles up at the inky night sky, feels Percival press his love into his skin, the play pretend collapsing around him as the others start to clean up, and wonders if he has built something beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Well bippity boppity boo, guess who?


End file.
